


Don't let me drown

by chemicalcandy



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 2017 Gerard and Frank, Begging, Bottom Gerard Way, Bullying, Crying, Denial of Feelings, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Drinking, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mentions of anal fingering, Mentions of blow jobs, Mutual Masturbation, Name-Calling, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Teasing, Top Frank Iero, mentions of anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 01:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11173713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalcandy/pseuds/chemicalcandy
Summary: ...'cause you know that I can't do this on my own.





	Don't let me drown

[cover art by [silveralleyw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/silveralleyw%20/pseuds/silveralleyw%20)]

* * *

 

Frank didn’t see the text message at first. He’d spent a joyful day with his family, taking a long walk with their dogs, going shopping, playing games. Lily had gotten kind of obsessed with playing Twister not only _with_ her dad, but rather on top of him, which complicated the whole thing drastically. For Frank, anyway. The kids had had a blast.  
  
Needless to say, Frank’s day had been fucking fantastic. Well, until now.  
  
When he checked his phone that night, he saw a message from Gerard. His heart instantly gave this small painful sting he always felt being reminded of his former band member, but constantly tried to ignore. At the same time, he started to get excited. Gerard didn’t text him often. If they wanted to talk to each other, they used their group chat with Ray and Mikey for sending stupid memes or generally funny stuff. So this had to be something special?  
  
_Can I talk to you about something please?_ , was all the message read. Frank frowned and quickly unlocked his phone, sending a brief _of course g, xo_ in response. Several hours had passed since Gerard had sent the text, and Frank felt a little guilty he was answering so late. This was probably just another weird idea of Gerard, but something about the way he had put the question worried Frank.  
  
He received a response faster than expected. _It’s nothing. Never mind about it, sorry for bothering you._  
  
There definitely was something wrong. With a big frown on his forehead, Frank informed Jamia he’d be talking to Gerard for a couple of minutes and left the room. She looked at him concernedly but didn’t ask any questions, which Frank was grateful for. First of all, he needed to figure out what was wrong with Gerard himself.  
  
They hadn’t really been in touch recently. But after having spent twelve years of his life with him, twelve years that he’d loved with every fiber of his body, Frank was bound to know Gerard. And Frank had experienced him in almost every situation possible. He knew what Gerard was like when he was happy, when he was tired, annoyed, sad. Depressed. When he was stressed or drunk or high or horny or in love. Frank had seen it all.  
  
He decided to go down into the basement where he usually practiced songs with the others. It always had sort of been like his own little world down here, the room filled with instruments and memories and just… emotions. He knew he would be able to talk to Gerard in peace here. Sort out what ever he had going on.  
  
Still, Frank’s hand was trembling a little when he let his phone dial Gerard’s number, ignoring the content of his last text. He felt like something was genuinely wrong. Of course, he could be mistaken, he wanted to be. Gerard was so damn far away, too far, far enough for Frank’s chest to tighten painfully whenever he so much as thought about it. So, of course, he could be wrong. In that case, he would just make sure Gerard was alright. But if his instinct was correct…  
  
His train of thought got interrupted when Gerard answered the phone. “F-Frankie?” he gasped, high-pitched and almost shocked. Like he seriously had expected Frank to accept his stupid excuse. Idiot.  
  
“Yeah, hey,” Frank answered. His voice was a little uneven and scratchy, so he cleared his throat. “Sorry for taking ages to answer, man, I was so busy today, saw your text just now. Uh, what’s up?”  
  
Gerard took a long breath, like he had to force himself to speak, like he was in pain. Frank sat down on one of the chairs heavily. He didn’t even need to hear Gerard’s words to know something was genuinely wrong with him. “It’s n-nothing,” he rasped. “Sorry f-for being a bother. I’m okay.”  
  
“I know you’re crying.”  
  
“I’m not!” he protested weakly.  
  
Frank sighed. “Gee.”  
  
“Fuck,” Gerard cursed quietly. Frank heard some rustling so he assumed Gerard sat down somewhere too, his bed, presumably. “I-I’m sorry, Frank,” he sniffed. “I know I’m pathetic. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Hey, shh,” Frank tried. It hurt his heart to hear Gerard like this and not be able to comfort him. He was here, in Jersey, whereas Gerard was all the way in fucking California. It sucked balls. Fucking hairy and greasy and old balls. “Look. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for, okay? You’re not being a bother. Promise. I’m actually super happy to be talking to you again, it’s been a while...”  
  
“I know,” Gerard said under his breath. “I’m sorry. Fuck, and I only try to contact you when I need you. I’m fucking selfish.”  
  
“We’re both busy, Gee,” Frank debated. “It’s not your fault. I haven’t texted you in ages either, so...”  
  
“I’m so sorry.”  
  
Frank huffed. “Gerard. Just… tell me what’s wrong, please? You don’t have to apologize. I’m glad you chose to talk to me. And stop the _nothing’s wrong_ bullshit, okay? I’ve known you long enough to be able to tell when there’s something bumming you out.”  
  
“You’re… you’re probably busy, though, right? I’m sorry. I- I would have texted Mikey, but he has Rowan now, and Lindsey’s not here, and I haven’t talked to Ray in a fucking _lifetime_ , seriously, I didn’t know what to tell him. I know you also have the kids and Jamia, I just needed… I needed someone. I’m sorry.”  
  
Only now Frank noticed a slight slur to Gerard’s voice. “Gerard. Are you drunk?”  
  
Silence. Then another long intake of air mingled with what vaguely sounded like a sob. Frank bit down on his bottom lip hard to keep calm. Oh god, no. This couldn’t be happening. Not again, not _now_. After everything Gerard had been through.  
  
The Gerard Frank saw in interviews sometimes nowadays, the Gerard who fulfilled his dream of writing comics, who had an awesome wife and a wonderful daughter and looked so fucking _happy_ … that wasn’t the Gerard who relapsed in his fucking depression and alcoholism. No fucking way.  
  
Frank started making plans. He had some stuff to do tomorrow, but fuck that. He was happy to spend some time with his family after touring for months, but if he had to, he’d leave them again for a few days. He could probably get a flight to Los Angeles tomorrow, hell, maybe even tonight. Gerard needed him. Gerard was in pain, all those miles away…  
  
“No,” Gerard breathed eventually, so quiet Frank almost didn’t hear him over his own thoughts screaming at him to do something. “I’m not drunk. I… I just had a beer. Or two. But it’s nothing serious, it’s nothing bad, I swear to you. It’s not like that.”  
  
“Where’s Bandit?” Frank asked cautiously.  
  
“She’s with Lindsey’s mom for the weekend. She’ll be back on Monday. God, I miss her...”  
  
He sounded so sad. So fucking down. Frank had to force himself to keep sitting in his chair – there was something building inside of him that was either a tantrum or a fucking waterfall of tears. Maybe both. “But Gerard, it’s gonna be okay,” he told him, trying to sound determined and reassuring. “It’s only two more days. You’ll have her back in no time.”  
  
“No, I mean, yeah. I know. It’s not that, it’s… she’s just an increasing factor, I guess.”  
  
“So tell me what bothers you?” Frank inquired.  
  
“You sure it’s okay? I mean, I’ve kind of been an asshole in the past. Maybe I deserve this. I… I probably do. I’m sorry, Frankie, I should just hang up.”  
  
“Don’t you dare,” Frank protested, getting furious. Oh, he’d lived through this already. He’d hated it, but he’d been so proud when Gerard had finally gotten better. When he’d gotten sober and started living his life. He so wasn’t just listening to him, doing nothing and practically watch him fall into that low again. “Don’t you fucking dare drown in your stupid self-pity again. I’m here to help you, Gerard, don’t you realize that? I want to _help_ you. I’m… I’m your friend, right? You mean a lot to me. So fucking spit it out.”  
  
“Even after everything that’s happened?” Gerard mumbled insecurely.  
  
Frank would have slapped him by now if his arm was long enough. “ _Yes_ ,” he hissed insistently, ignoring the way his pulse raced at the thought of what Gerard was hinting at. The band. And… _them_. Gerard and Frank, and what they’d once shared. But he wasn’t going to let his mind wander there now. “Especially after that.”  
  
Gerard hesitated, and for a few seconds all that Frank could hear was more sniffing. “It’s… kind of stupid.”  
  
“You’re kind of stupid,” Frank countered with a huff. “Right now, anyway. Fucking spit.”  
  
“Sorry,” Gerard sighed, with either a small laugh or some sort of sob, Frank couldn’t tell. “It’s just… it’s just that I… I feel like I’m… fuck. I feel like fucking _shit_ , Frank. I… I can’t even look at myself anymore. I’m disgusting, I’m so fucking gross, I-”  
  
“Woah, woah, hold on, there.” Frank raised a hand although Gerard couldn’t see that, squinting his eyes and shaking his head rapidly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”  
  
“Just fucking look at me,” Gerard croaked. “As if you haven’t seen it, you _must_ have seen it, please don’t a-act like this is just in my head, I can’t handle that. I’m so… so ugly. Everybody can see that, I’m so -”  
  
“Gerard Way. Shut the fuck up or I swear to god, I will come over there and kick you in the fucking balls again. This is absolute bullshit and you know it.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard said for the umpteenth time, sounding so broken it made Frank feel physically sick. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with this, it’s… it’s okay. Not like you can fucking tell me how gross I am, you’re too nice for that, you-”  
  
“I don’t think you get what is going on right now, Gerard.” Frank leaned forward on his chair, his leg bobbing up and down, tattooed fingers digging into the material of his jeans harshly. “You are an inspiration to fucking _masses_ of people. You are wonderful. You’re… Jesus, you’re Gerard Way! How can you even think stuff like that?”  
  
“That was long ago,” Gerard declared bitterly. “But now… Look at me. I’m wretched. I can be glad Lindsey hasn’t left me yet, and that you even still talk to me. I’m fucking disgusting, Frank.”  
  
“Okay, prepare to get fucking beat up the next time we see each other,” Frank spat at him, wishing he was with him now, wishing he could punch these stupid, sickening thoughts right out of his confused brain. Or... hug them out of him. Gerard had always been a fan of hugging when he felt down. And cuddling. Fuck. “I need you to stop talking nothing but crap. Lindsey loves you. I love you. The entire fucking world loves you, you’re you, you ignorant fuck. Don’t you fucking dare do this to yourself, I swear to God.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Gerard sobbed, and Frank instantly felt bad for being so harsh. “I’m sorry, Frankie, I just… Everybody online says so. They… they call me fat. And ugly, and greasy, and disgusting, and… and it’s not like I can fucking argue with them, is it? I am a fucking disgrace. I-”  
  
“And now you let twelve-year-olds bully you?” Frank let out a sarcastic huff. “Jesus Christ, Gerard. Whoever said that, I swear, they’re lying. Who do you trust more, me or those unknowing shitheads?”  
  
“Don’t… don’t call them that, Frankie,” Gerard whimpered. “They’re fans. Or they were fans. Before I got fucking fat and gross. And they’re right, please don’t try to lie to me, they’re fucking right...”  
  
“Answer my question, Gerard.”  
  
Gerard sniffed pathetically before he forced out an answer. “You,” he said feebly. “But-”  
  
“Me, that’s right. So now stop this bullshit. You’re amazing. You are creative and so fucking sweet. You have the purest heart ever, I’m being completely honest here. You’re like… like an angel, Gee. You have no idea how much it hurts me to hear you say all that fucked up stuff.” Frank's cheeks felt hot with anger. He didn’t even care he was spilling his guts to Gerard, all that mattered now was that the fucking gorgeous bastard stopped crying and carried on loving his life. There was nothing Frank wanted more right now.  
  
“Thank you,” Gerard sobbed. “B-But… even if you’re right. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m old and gross-”  
  
“You’re _forty_.”  
  
“And I’ve turned so fucking fat and disgusting. And they hate my hair and my beard. I feel so unworthy, Frank...”  
  
Frank sighed loudly, raking a hand through his own hair that wasn’t that different to Gerard’s. They both had let it grow a bit, and honestly, Frank thought it suited Gerard quite well. But he knew how Gerard was, how obsessed with some fucked up thoughts he could get once he had talked himself into believing them. It would take a while to talk him out of this. “So why haven’t you gotten rid of the beard yet? Why don’t you get a haircut?”  
  
“B-Because...” Gerard swallowed audibly. “Because I… I like it this way, but-”  
  
“Exactly, that’s what I thought! Because _you_ like it. And guess what? It’s _your_ body. It’s _your_ decision. It’s _your_ life. Stop this bullshit, fucking _please_.”  
  
“Do you like it?” Gerard asked tentatively after a short pause.  
  
“I do,” Frank said honestly, nodding to himself. “It’s a new look. Nothing like that platinum hair you had going on back in ‘06, or that red hair during Danger Days. I also loved your black hair, man, but… you know what? I feel like what you have now suits the person you have grown into. Because you’re not a fucking rock star anymore, you don’t need to look like you’re in your twenties or whatever. You’ve aged, you’ve moved on, and I’m completely honest when I say it looks good on you.”  
  
“Those kids on the internet say it makes me look like a homeless child molester,” Gerard grumbled.  
  
Frank shook his head in disgust. “Fuck them. Seriously, fuck them. If I ever meet one of those _kids_ in person, I swear to god...”  
  
“Frankie.”  
  
“I know. This just makes me so fucking angry.”  
  
“I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” Gerard muttered. “I bet you had other stuff to do.”  
  
“If you apologize one more time I will smack you. Very hard.”  
  
“Kinky,” Gerard breathed in what Frank hoped was a slight chuckle. It made his heart feel a little warmer, finally.  
  
“That’s more like the Gerard I love,” he told him in earnest. “But seriously. Whoever said those things is probably a moron.”  
  
“It’s not like only one person said it, there’s like-”  
  
“Shut up. Everyone who insults you ever again is an ignorant, gutless and plainly stupid scumbag, because you’re obviously the most fantastic motherfucker out there.”  
  
“You kind of just insulted me yourself, there...”  
  
Frank bit back a grin. “Except for me, obviously. I love you.”  
  
“I love you too. You’re amazing, you… thank you.”  
  
For a while they stayed silent, the only noise Frank could hear was Gerard’s sniffing slowly turning into regular breathing until it sounded like he was fine again, but Frank wouldn’t be satisfied this fast. He knew sometimes Gerard’s thoughts were way deeper than he let show, his concerns so much more profound than most people would guess.  
  
And apparently, he was right.  
  
“Frankie?” came weakly from Gerard a few minutes later, so hesitant, barely there.  
  
“Yes, Gee?”  
  
“Did you… did you mean all that?”  
  
“I did. I swear I did,” Frank said genuinely.  
  
“And do you still think… that I’m… um. Do you still think I’m hot?”  
  
Frank’s breath caught in his throat. He had not expected that, shit, and the question led him to this place of his past he was slightly uncomfortable remembering. “I will always think you’re hot, Gee,” Frank responded with a shaky voice.  
  
Sure, Gerard wasn’t as slim as he’d been once. He didn’t shake his ass like some fucking talented stripper anymore; applying eyeliner had vanished from his daily morning routine, and he’d probably look ridiculous trying to wear these fucking tight pants Frank used to love seeing him in. But he was still _Gerard_. The Gerard he’d kissed so many times, the man that had definitely turned him bisexual at some point during those twelve years they had been in a band. Gerard, who was incredibly hung, who had a mouth that had Frank in Heaven within seconds, and fingers that could do the most unholy things. The Gerard that Frank loved with all his heart. He could go bald tomorrow and Frank would still think he was the hottest guy on the entire planet. He could turn into the world’s biggest dickhead and Frank wouldn’t change his mind, although he had to admit that scenario was really damn unlikely.  
  
“Really?” Gerard breathed softly, sounding more like the man Frank had started making out with over ten years ago, off-stage, when they had been alone and equally insecure and turned on. Those nights, especially their very first ones, would always stay in Frank's mind and heart. “Do you really mean that?”  
  
“I swear I do, Gerard. Cross my fucking heart,” Frank reassured him determinedly.  
  
“And would you… would you still… you know. Do me?”  
  
Frank sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah,” he answered without thinking about it. He closed his eyes as the wave of embarrassment made him flush as he hadn't intended to be this brutally honest, his mind wandering off to all those nights they had spent together, curled up in either Frank or Gerard’s bunk. It had been too tight and hot and mostly uncomfortable, but so fucking worth it.  
  
“Yeah?” Gerard repeated disbelievingly. “B-But how? I look… I look like-”  
  
“Gerard.” Frank opened his eyes again, suddenly having a plan how to get Gerard out of his misery. “Okay. Gee, what are you doing right now? Where are you?”  
  
“Oh, I-I’m just lying on my bed, talking to you, why-”  
  
“I want you to stand up. And then go stand in front of the biggest mirror you got, one you can see your whole body in. Okay?”  
  
“I… Why do you want me to-”  
  
“Please, Gee?” Frank urged, smiling slightly when he heard Gerard let out a sigh and a quiet groan as he got up from the bed.  
  
“Okay,” Gerard mumbled a few seconds later. “I… I’m in front of a mirror. What now?”  
  
“What are you wearing?”  
  
“Frankie-”  
  
“What are you wearing, Gerard?”  
  
Gerard sighed. “Just… just some sweatpants, a tee and a cardigan. Why?”  
  
“Take the cardigan off first,” Frank commanded softly.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Just… trust me. Okay?”  
  
“O-Okay, Frankie. Okay. Just a second.”  
  
Frank heard a quiet thump when Gerard placed his phone somewhere, and then there was some rustling.  
  
“I’m done,” Gerard declared awkwardly a few seconds later. “What now?” He sounded a bit uncomfortable but mainly just interested in where Frank was heading with this, so Frank would make the best of that.  
  
“I want you to look at yourself. You don’t have to say anything, just look at yourself for a moment.” Frank waited for Gerard to let out a hum before he fell silent as well. He pictured Gerard standing in front of that mirror, stains of tears still on his pretty face, red-eyed and messy. Insecure. Frank would change that, or try to, anyway. “What do you see?” he asked gently when he thought enough time had passed.  
  
“I see… me. A middle-aged man with greasy hair and a beard that turns fucking gray. I look tired.”  
  
Frank suppressed the urge to tell Gerard that his greasy hair was actually kind of cute because it reminded him of their early days in MCR, and just kept going with his plan. “Now think of something that makes you happy. Like, Bandit. Lindsey. Your comics. Whatever you want. Does that change anything?”  
  
“I...” Gerard started and stayed quiet for a moment. Frank let him take his time. “I guess so,” he then whispered. “Thinking about that makes me look… more alive, somehow. I don’t know what it is, though. I can only see it when I’m really close to the mirror.”  
  
“See? This is only about the way you see yourself. If you let yourself drown in self-hatred and wallow in self-pity, of course you’ll find yourself ugly. We’ve all been there. Just try to be positive, okay?”  
  
“I’ll try,” Gerard agreed, sounding sad again.  
  
“Good. Now, take off your tee.”  
  
“Wait, really?” Gerard asked, confused.  
  
“Yeah,” Frank said with a nod. “Take it off. Please.”  
  
Gerard sighed but Frank heard him put the phone aside once more. He smiled to himself a little resignedly, imagining Gerard in his house somewhere in LA, all alone and half-naked. It reminded him of back when Gerard was his. Fuck. This was hurting him, but if his plan worked out, Gerard would feel better in only a few minutes, so he would go through with it no matter what.  
  
“Done,” Gerard rasped then. Frank could see him so clearly now, how he must be biting his lip, head slightly bowed, a flush on his cheeks.  
  
“Tell me what you see now.”  
  
“Fat. A fat old man with a belly bigger than-”  
  
“Did I ever tell you I’ve always adored you being pudgy?” Frank interrupted him quickly. “I know you always tried to be as slim as possible, we all did, sort of. But I always loved your chub.”  
  
Gerard was quiet for a few seconds, and Frank started to fear he’d said something wrong. “I don’t know what to say to that,” Gerard then uttered shakily. “Just… thank you. So much.”

“I want you to… okay, this is gonna sound weird, but I don’t mean it that way if you don’t want me to mean it that way, alright? Just… uh. Can you stroke your chest for me? Like I used to do?”  
  
“F-Frank, I don’t know...”  
  
“Please, Gerard. Just pretend it’s me. I… I want you to see how fucking beautiful you are, and therefore I need you to _feel_ it. Please?”  
  
“O-Okay. Okay, Frankie.”  
  
Gerard fell silent, leaving Frank to imagine him caressing his own skin, slow and careful, like Frank had sometimes done it to get Gerard in the mood. Back then, it never had taken him long to get Gerard worked up, they both had been so needy for one another a couple of years back. Frank smiled a little realizing how they still had this bond. How much the trust was still there. It was beautiful, really.  
  
“And when you’re ready you can start to, like, move down a bit. Just over your stomach, I mean. I know it’s kinda weird, just… just pretend it’s me.”  
  
“Your hand’s so different, though. Fucking calloused and strong, and your fingers are thicker, and you’re just… you feel better.”  
  
Frank bit his lip discerning Gerard had a point. Personally, he felt like _Gerard’s_ hands were fucking magical. He had these long graceful fingers that felt soft on his skin, and a surprisingly firm grip that was perfect around his dick...  
  
“I’m sorry I can’t be there,” Frank told him honestly. “I… I miss you.”  
  
“I miss you too, Frank. I miss you so much.”  
  
“Are you still touching yourself?” Frank asked carefully.  
  
“Y-Yeah.”  
  
“How does it feel?”  
  
Gerard wavered. “F-Feels good. It really does, Frankie.”  
  
“I want you to keep in mind… every part of you, whether you’re touching it right now or not, is beautiful. Remember when I used to touch you? When we touched each other all the time?”  
  
“F-Frankie, that’s so long ago, I don’t look like that anymore, and you-”  
  
“It’s still _us_ ,” Frank argued gently. “It’s still your body. I love your body so much, Gee.”  
  
Gerard’s breath hitched, a whimper escaping his lips. “Frankie,” he began slowly. “Frankie, can I ask you to do something as well?”  
  
“Yeah,” Frank told him. “Anything.”  
  
“I w-want you to touch yourself, too.” Gerard stumbled, gulping audibly as soon as the words were out. “If… you don’t find that disgusting. Talking to me and everything while you do it, so-”  
  
“Stop that, Gee.” Frank let his hand trail down his clothed chest, his fingertips grazing his waistband. He wasn’t sure whether Gerard meant he wanted him to touch _himself_ , or just join him stroking his body so he didn’t feel stupid or something. He settled for resting his hand there by the hem of his shirt, nudging his belt buckle slightly. His dick was actually half-hard from imagining Gerard almost naked and all those memories popping up in his head. But he wasn’t going to admit that, fearing it might make Gerard feel insecure. The last thing Frank wanted was for Gerard to feel used. “This is nice. Like it’s… right, somehow.”  
  
“I’m glad you think so.” Frank heard the smile in Gerard’s voice, the first genuine sign of happiness that he had heard from him today, hell, that he had heard from him in _ages_. It was fucking amazing and made him feel so warm.  
  
And then Gerard released a noise that sent more, clearly directed warmth through Frank’s body. A high-pitched, oh so familiar moan, making Frank close his eyes by instinct to relish it. Now he knew that Gerard had definitely moved his hand further down than just his belly. “Fuck,” Gerard whispered right into Frank’s ear. At least it felt like it with Frank’s eyes shut, his own fingers unbuckling his pants almost automatically. “I really wish this was your hand, Frankie.”  
  
“God, me too,” Frank admitted with a quiet groan as his fingers closed around his dick in his underwear. He pumped himself a bit, briefly wondering about how they had ended up fucking jerking off together when the call had started with Gerard crying, but well, as long as Gerard was happy with this, Frank was sure as fuck not interrupting. “What would you want me to do if I was there?”  
  
Gerard gasped. “I… I don’t know,” he whispered, a quiet moan following suit.  
  
“Mhm,” Frank made thoughtfully. “Remember what I sometimes did after our shows when we had a hotel night? When you were all worked up and wanton, and I would just throw you on the bed, take off your pants and spread your legs? Remember what I did then, Gee?”  
  
“Y-You jerked me off,” Gerard croaked, sounding helplessly turned on. “And then you sucked m-me.”  
  
Frank smiled. “I did. But there was more than that, right?”  
  
“Yes,” Gerard said in a hush. “You a-also fingered me.”  
  
“That’s right. Fingered you so fucking good with my lips around your huge fucking dick. You always made the most delicious noises. So fucking needy and tight and gorgeous, writhing around me, whimpering and begging.” Frank took a deep breath and waited for Gerard to answer but all he got in response was a shameless moan. He smiled and got himself out of his underwear to stroke his dick to full hardness, feeling light-headed and just as aroused as he deemed Gerard to be right now. “Do you remember what you begged for?”  
  
“I d-do,” Gerard panted. “Always begged you t-to fuck me. Needed you to fuck me so bad, Frankie.”  
  
“Yeah? And what did I do then?”  
  
“You made me wait,” Gerard sobbed, obviously just as torn between pleasure and nostalgia as Frank. “Always made me wait and beg and just kept sucking me off and fucking me with your stupidly perfect fingers, and you always pulled back whenever I was on the brink, it was so fucking frustrating but so hot-”  
  
“Look at yourself now, baby,” Frank demanded, biting his lip at the _baby_ that had just slipped from his lips without his consent. Luckily Gerard didn’t seem to be bothered by it, so he just kept going. “Look at yourself and try to tell me you’re not the hottest dude in the universe. Just keep in mind what we did back then, how often you’d take it in your tight ass for me. What a slut you were.”  
  
Gerard moaned at the word. “B-But,” he protested weakly. “I don’t l-look like that anymore, I’m-”  
  
“Healthy. And happy. And it’s still you, and I love you, and you better stop complaining about your looks because some people out there would kill to just have one percent of your prettiness. Stop or I won’t allow you to cum tonight.” It was a shot in the dark. Frank didn’t know how Gerard would react, whether he would be into this. Back then they used to do orgasm denial sometimes, but with Frank three fucking time zones away, this statement could easily turn into something ridiculous.  
  
Gerard, luckily, didn’t seem to think so. “W-Why would you think I’d give a shit?” he asked, sounding almost provoking, but Frank knew he was just testing his limits. Trying to get Frank to be more dominant, rougher.  
  
“Oh,” Frank said, drawing it out. “I know you wouldn’t disobey. You’ve always been such a good boy for me, you wouldn’t wanna ruin that now, would you, Gerard?”  
  
“N-No,” Gerard admitted, letting out another moan.  
  
“So you’ll stop listening to those stupid kids’ irrelevant thoughts and start loving yourself again? Like you fucking should?”  
  
“I’ll t-try, but-”  
  
“No buts. You’re beautiful and cute and perfect. And you’re rich and famous. Just fucking stuff your dollar bills in your ears next time someone’s trying to insult you so you won’t hear it.”  
  
Gerard giggled at that. “You know that’s stupid.”  
  
“You wanna cum or not?” Frank probed, smirking when Gerard turned serious again.  
  
“Yes. Please.”  
  
“So promise me you’ll never listen to anybody’s bullshit ever again?”  
  
Gerard took a deep breath. “Yes. Okay. I-I promise.”  
  
“That’s a good boy.” Frank stroked himself slowly now, being as quiet as possible, just listening to Gerard’s quiet noises for a few moments.  
  
“Um. Can I lie on my bed for this?” Gerard asked hesitantly.  
  
“Okay. But take off your pants and underwear, I want you naked. Understood?”  
  
“Y-Yes,” Gerard responded diligently, and then Frank heard him hurry towards his bedroom, kicking off his pants in the process. A soft _oomph_ told him Gerard was on his bed again, presumably naked and hard, ready for this to continue.  
  
“So, Gee,” Frank said, trying to sound seductive or something, hoping it would remind Gerard of all the times they had done this together, physically together. “Do you want me to remind you of what happened next? After I fingered you open and sucked your delicious cock, when you were real fucking close already?”  
  
“Please,” Gerard all but breathed out.  
  
“Well, sometimes I’d throw your legs over my shoulders. Line up with your stretched ass and just go for it, fuck you so damn good. Remember how you used to scream for me? How raw your voice would always get, how needy and desperate? How you’d wrap your arms around me to keep me close, how you wanted more, wanted me deeper, begged me to keep fucking you?”  
  
“Frankie, fuck,” Gerard croaked. Faintly, Frank could hear the slick noise of him jerking off, fast and urgently, unstoppable whimpers falling from his lips.  
  
“Or other times I’d make you turn around,” Frank continued, enjoying how Gerard’s breath caught in his throat audibly, how he could _hear_ him tensing up. “You remember that, don’t you? You see it just as clearly as I do. How fucking gorgeous you were on your hands and knees, all exposed and vulnerable, open from my fingers. So needy. Like a fucking whore.”  
  
Gerard keened, moaning oh so deliciously just for Frank. It was music to his ears. “Fucking close, Frankie,” he told him, sobbing in pleasure. “You’re so… so good at this, shit, I’m gonna cum.”  
  
“Oh?” Frank asked, raising a brow. “Without my permission?”  
  
Gerard cursed again, sounding fucking wrecked but in a good way this time. Frank smirked imagining him on his bed, his pale, beautiful form all alone there, waiting for him to join him, phone pressed to Gerard’s ear frantically. “No, not without your permission,” he forced out eventually, making Frank’s smile widen.  
  
“Good boy,” he praised. “You can earn your orgasm, though. Just tell me what we would do next, after I had you on all fours for me.”  
  
“You’d… you’d always make me so desperate for it,” Gerard panted. He was holding back, it was evident in his voice, and fuck, Frank was so close as well. His fingers tightened around his shaft, stopping moving them up and down for a moment as he just listened to Gerard’s labored words. “Make me ask for your cock until I was close to tears. You’d tease me so much, Jesus Christ, push in only your tip and then pull back altogether, or just stroke over my ass with your thumb as you held me open.”  
  
“Fuck, Gee,” Frank cursed. He continued jacking off, it was impossible not to with Gerard talking like this. “Keep going.”  
  
“And then, finally, you’d just thrust into me, and it would be so fucking _awesome_. Like fucking, fucking Heaven. Your cock always filled me so damn good, and you’d fuck me into the mattress, so hard and fucking fast. You always gave me just what I needed. Fuck, Frankie, I’m so close, I’m so fucking close.”  
  
“God, me too, Gee,” Frank croaked. The heat was pooling in his stomach thickly, like he just needed that tiny bit more. One flick of his wrist, then two, and Frank was bucking his hips off the chair, groaning Gerard’s name probably way too loudly as he pumped himself through his orgasm, cursing, feeling like his every cell was on fire.  
  
“D-Did you cum?” Gerard asked, sounding desperate and pleading.  
  
Frank let out a long breath, stroking himself one last time. “Oh, fuck yeah, I did,” he moaned. “Jesus Christ.”  
  
He felt a little guilty for doing this with Jamia right upstairs, but he was sure she wouldn’t actually mind. She knew what had been going on between Frank and Gerard during their years in the band, even if Frank had spared her the details. And because she was the best wife he could imagine, Jamia was alright with it. She’d even admitted to finding it kind of hot, and if Frank told her about how horrible and self-conscious Gerard had felt, she would fully understand and support Frank. So he hoped.  
  
“Please, Frankie, can I cum too?” Gerard practically begged, bringing Frank back in the here and now. He grinned to himself hearing him like this again, it was so hot and breathtaking, fucking priceless. “I’m so, so close.”  
  
“Mhm, you need it really bad?” Frank teased as he wiped his cum off the shirt he was wearing, knowing it needed to be washed anyway after he’d been wearing it all day.  
  
Gerard groaned. “ _Yes_. Please, please?”  
  
“Only if you promise you’ll never think about these assholes ever again.”  
  
“I already did,” Gerard protested weakly.  
  
“I want you to swear it.”  
  
“I swear I will never think about them again, fuck,” Gerard caved in with a whine. “Please let me cum, Frank.”  
  
They hadn’t done this in so fucking long. Frank had missed it, fuck had he missed it a lot, so he decided to make Gerard wait just a little more. “I also want you to admit how beautiful you are,” he stated.  
  
Gerard grunted in frustration. “Frankie, _please_. Please, okay? This has been fun, but-”  
  
“Say it or you’re not cumming.”  
  
“You can’t stop me.”  
  
“Oh, I can, Gee.” Frank raised a brow at Gerard’s suddenly daring tone. “Because you know what’s good for you. Are you gonna say it for me or do I have to make you?”  
  
“Fuck,” Gerard moaned. Frank heard him move his hand faster, more urgently, and he knew there was no way he would be able to hold back much longer. “Okay. Okay, I’m beautiful. Happy?”  
  
“Louder. And like you mean it,” Frank commanded.  
  
“I’m beautiful.”  
  
“Again.”  
  
“I’m beautiful!” Gerard all but sobbed. “Please, Frankie!”  
  
“Good boy. Cum for me.” He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Gerard was already moaning, louder than before, his voice practically oozing relief, like he was letting everything go. All his sorrows, all his stupid concerns. Frank smiled to himself listening to Gerard cumming his brains out, trying to ignore the little twitch his dick gave. No fucking way he’d be able to get it up again right now. He wasn’t twenty anymore.  
  
“You are beautiful,” Frank told him when Gerard slowly came down from it. He wasn’t sure he had heard him over his own loud panting, so he simply repeated it.  
  
“Frankie,” Gerard sighed. “Frankie, you… I miss you so fucking much. Thank you. For everything. This… you have no idea how much you helped me.”  
  
“I honestly didn’t know it would end like this, but… I’m so glad I called you. Seriously. Not just because you gave me a fucking mind-blowing orgasm, but you… I miss you too. A lot.”  
  
Gerard let out a sad hum that left Frank frowning for a moment, disbelieving he was actually giving into this depressing thought again. He was here to cheer Gerard up, for fuck’s sake, not to drown in the upsetting fact that they were so many hours apart just thinking about it was heart-wrenching.  
  
“You should come over,” Gerard stated, sounding securer than Frank had heard him in a long time. “You and J and the kids. Some time, I mean.”  
  
Frank nodded happily, the smile back on his lips. “That sounds awesome, Gee. Really. I’d love that.”  
  
“And also I… I wanna stay in touch with you. Please. I just really miss you.”  
  
“Hey, I got a plan,” Frank told him enthusiastically, determined to keep the mood carefree. “I’ll call you again tomorrow. Just to see how you’re doing. Okay? And then we’ll arrange another day I can call you, and then another, and we’ll catch up on everything that’s happened. How does that sound?”

**Author's Note:**

> Reading all the bullshit Gerard's been getting for how his appearance has changed inspired me to write this. Please don't insult him, because let's be honest, he's one of the most precious human beings on this planet. Thank you. 
> 
> ♥


End file.
